


love is blind (steve and bucky are just dumb)

by talkplaylove, wearing_tearing



Series: Happy Steve Bingo [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Bearded Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes & Shuri Friendship, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Families of Choice, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Happy Steve Bingo, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Post-Black Panther (2018), Skype, Wakanda (Marvel), oblivious idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 18:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16707829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkplaylove/pseuds/talkplaylove, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearing_tearing/pseuds/wearing_tearing
Summary: “You shouldn’t have interrupted their date, then,” Natasha pipes up, finally showing her face as she gives Bucky a wave and a tiny smile. “I like the hair.”“Thank you.” Bucky preens a little. He ignores the teasing about this being a date; Nat and Sam somehow got it into their heads that Steve and him were dating via Skype calls. They’re not. They’re just friends who video call sometimes. Friends do that.





	love is blind (steve and bucky are just dumb)

**Author's Note:**

> This is for our Happy Steve Bingo card. Prompt 3/5: First Kiss. Thanks to L for sharing her LDR dates <3
> 
> This was supposed to be 500 words ¯\\_(ツ)_/ ¯

Steve rubs the shaving cream along his jaw and neck, looking at his reflection on the mirror. He carefully trims his beard, face angled over the sink.

Natasha leans against the bathroom’s doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.  “Just a little to the left there.”

“I know how to trim my beard, Nat,” Steve says. He angles his hand a little to the left, following Natasha’s instructions.

“We’re going for hot guy with facial hair, not lost in the jungle for years,” Nat says. A pause. “Though if that’s his type, I won’t judge.”

Steve groans and flicks water at her.

 

**

 

Bucky putters around his kitchen, the fading rays of sunlight streaming through the window over the sink. His hair’s done and his clothes are freshly washed. All that’s missing is the food.

He opens a pasta packet on the counter and dumps the noodles in the pot of boiling water on the stove. In the saucepan, he stirs the tomato sauce with ground beef and garlic to a low simmer, whistling a tune.

He looks up at the digital clock on the wall.

Just in time.

 

**

 

“You have sauce on your beard.”

“Oh, shit.”

Bucky watches as Steve raises a hand to his chin, wiping at the drop of tomato sauce that clings to it. Bucky himself takes another forkful of the spaghetti they’re having for dinner, humming a little when the rich flavors burst on his tongue, and doesn’t take his eyes off the holographic screen projected in front of him.

“Is it out?” Steve asks and tilts his chin up, face surprisingly clear through their Skype call. One’s gotta love Wakanda technology.

“The sauce is out,” Bucky answers, “but the ugliness is hard to wipe off.”

“Fuck you,” Steve throws back with a smile. “I’m beautiful.”

Bucky opens his mouth to answer, but Sam’s face pops up on the screen right above Steve’s shoulder before he can say anything. Bucky snickers when Sam presses a hand to Steve’s face and pushes him away while he aims a glare straight at Bucky.

“I’m not here to listen to you to flirt,” Sam complains. “So knock it off.”

“I don’t mind,” Natasha pipes up from… somewhere off screen, although her voice is loud to Bucky’s ears.

“Just go somewhere else,” Steve grunts, elbowing Sam on the ribs and batting his hand away.

“There is literally nowhere else to go,” Sam argues. Bucky eats another mouthful of spaghetti while Sam wraps an arm around Steve’s shoulder and scuffs him in the head. “We’re fugitives. I’m stuck here with you in this safe house until one of us kills each other or Natasha decides to murder us.”

“It’s gonna happen sooner than you think if you don’t stop messing up my hair,” Steve snaps back, and then stops playing and gently grabs Sam by the back of his knees and drops him to the floor.

“Foul!” Sam yells from the floor. “I don’t have supersoldier strength.”

“You shouldn’t have interrupted their date, then,” Natasha pipes up, finally showing her face as she gives Bucky a wave and a tiny smile. “I like the hair.”

“Thank you.” Bucky preens a little. He ignores the teasing about this being a date; Nat and Sam somehow got it into their heads that Steve and him were dating via Skype calls. They’re not. They’re just friends who video call sometimes. Friends do that.  “Shuri helped me with it.”

More like Shuri complained until Bucky told her about his Skype call with Steve. Then she smiled a soft smile and told him they’d do a braid next time.

“Stop interrupting,” Steve tells Natasha and Sam, his jaw clenched. “This is my time with Bucky. You two get to see me every day.”

“Unfortunately,” Sam mutters, and then yelps and ducks when Steve throws his fork at him.

Bucky gives him an unimpressed look. “How are you going to eat now, genius?”

Steve glowers at his plate. “I could eat with my hands.”

Bucky rolls his eyes so hard he thinks they might pop. “Go rescue your fork, Steve.”

Steve is back a few minutes later, fork in hand and longer hair slightly mussed up. “Okay, no more interruptions,” he says a little louder than usual, just to get his point across, and then turns back to Bucky. “Now tell me about your day.”

Bucky does, and they spend another half hour talking and having dinner together, up until Steve bids him good night with a bittersweet smile when he has to log off. As much as Bucky likes their Skype calls, he can’t help but go to bed that night wishing Steve was right here with him.

 

**

 

Steve loads the latest Star Wars movie up on his laptop. He opens Skype and minimizes the screen window to a small rectangle to the top of his laptop screen, on top of the video player. He checks his reflection from the camera, running his hand through his hair, before pressing the green ‘call’ button.

Bucky’s face beams at him on the screen. His hair is more intricate today, with two braids on the sides of his head and clipped back.

“Hi,” Steve says, grinning at the screen.

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice cackles over the laptop’s speakers. “I’ve got the movie ready.”

Steve’s working his way down his notebook of things to catch up on in the 21st century, and while the original Star Wars trilogy was on it, Bucky had taken to all of the science-fiction movies like a moth to a flame.

“And popcorn,” Bucky continues, lifting his hand towards the camera show a bowl of freshly popped popcorn.

“You two are going to give me cavities,” Sam says, a little to Steve’s left. “Movie date tonight, huh?”

“It’s not a date,” Steve says, rolling his eyes at Sam. He looks back at the screen and lifts his can of coke.

“Sure, sure. Just… two bros watching a movie together, making the effort to meet regularly despite distance and do things together…” Sam mutters, one eyebrow lifting. It’s low enough that the laptop’s mic doesn’t catch what he says.

“Yep,” Steve says.

Sam gives him a look.

“You ready?” Bucky asks, excitement palpable on the screen.

Steve smiles, heart skipping a beat. It’s great to see Bucky happy. “Let’s do this.”

 

**

 

Bucky blinks sleepily when he hears the beep of an incoming call, and then tries to push down the cold curling of dread that settles in his stomach. They don’t have anything scheduled for today, yet Steve’s name flashes on the holographic screen.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks as soon as he accepts the call and Steve’s tired face appears in front of him.

“Shit, were you sleeping?” Steve’s lips turn down in disappointment. “It’s fine. I can call you later.”

“I wasn’t.” Bucky shifts on the cot so he can sit up and lean against the wall, making the sheets slide down his naked chest and pool at his waist. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Steve shakes his head, although his eyes are trained somewhere under Bucky’s collarbones. “I’m… fine,” he clears his throat and snaps his gaze back to Bucky.

Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “Are you sure?” he asks with suspicion.

Steve’s cheeks are a little red, but he’s quick to nod. “Yeah, I just wanted to see you.”

Bucky’s heart flips in his chest and he sighs, settling back into bed. “Well, you’re seeing me. How was today?”

Steve shrugs and stares down at his hands, a sure sign he has something on his mind.

Bucky fights back an eye-roll and levels Steve with an unimpressed stare. “Spit it out, Rogers.”

“I, uh—” Steve smiles sheepishly at him, the tense line of his shoulders betraying his uncertainty. “I got a call from T’Challa.”

“So?” Bucky yawns again. “I get calls from him all the time.”

Steve huffs in annoyance, making Bucky smile. “Don’t be cute,” Steve says.

“Impossible,” Bucky sniffs. “That’s my natural state of being.”

“I am not here,” Natasha says as she walks past Steve, the camera capturing her from waist to shoulders. She makes jazz hands at him. “You cannot see me. And I’m leaving before I see more of you two than I ever wanted to.”

Bucky does roll his eyes now, joined by Steve.

“Bucky was in bed,” Steve tries to explain.

Natasha shakes a finger at him. “That is not necessary information. Now have fun on your date and don’t get anything sticky on the keyboard.”

Steve scrunches up his nose at that. “Like I’d ever be that gross.”

“I don’t know, Steve,” Bucky drawls. “You’re pretty gross already.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “Says you, the _grossest_.”

Bucky gasps and clutches at his bare chest. “Shot through the heart.”

Steve laughs, happiness making his eyes crinkle at the corners. “T’Challa invited me for a visit.”

Bucky perks up, feeling his mouth curl up in a smile despite himself. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Steve smiles back. “I take it you want to see me?”

“Of course not,” Bucky deadpans. “I am perfectly happy with holographic Steve. Why would I ever want to see real Steve? I bet he smells.”

“Like flowers, you mean.” Steve bats his lashes at him, and then ducks his head as he smiles shyly. “Do you think it’d be okay if I came over two weeks from now? I don’t know your schedule—”

“That’d be perfect,” Bucky interrupts, joy and excitement coloring his tone. “My schedule mostly consists of letting Shuri make fun of me in the mornings, letting Okoye make fun of me in the afternoons, and then brushing my hair a hundred times before bed.”

“Your hair brushing efforts are worth it,” Steve says in a serious tone. “Your hair looks as smooth and shiny as Thor’s biceps after a fight.”

“Why, Steve,” Bucky covers his demure smile with a hand, “what a thing for you to say.”

There’s a beat of silence before both of them burst out laughing, going on for so long that by the end of it Steve is clutching his middle and Bucky is wiping tears from his eyes.

“See you in two weeks then?” Steve asks after they’ve caught their breaths, although a smile still lingers on his face.

Bucky grins at him, big and bright. “Can’t wait.”

 

**

 

“Captain Rogers will be staying with you,” T’Challa says as they walk towards the landing field, Okoye half a step behind him. It’s a bright and sunny day, and a light breeze makes the tall blades of grass sway. 

Bucky nods. Steve’s always stayed with him in Wakanda, regardless of the reason for his visit--whether it was to meet with T’Challa, test out some new weapons, or visit Bucky. 

“Naturally, brother,” Shuri says, rolling her eyes. She pats T’Challa on the shoulder.  “Not everyone freezes like you do.” 

Bucky doesn’t fully understand the context here, but he doesn’t miss the opportunity for a joke. “We’ve both been frozen for long enough, thanks,” Bucky says, smirking. 

Shuri is still shrieking in laughter when the quintjet is let in through the Wakandan force fields. 

Bucky feels the anticipation twisting his gut, his heart beating double-time as the quintjet lands. He tugs a lock of hair unconsciously, before Shuri slaps his hand away. 

“It looks great,” Shuri says. “Now is not the time to ruin your hair.” 

The hatch of the quintjet slowly opens. And Bucky’s been in Wakanda for a little while, but he’s always loved watching technology in action. He watches the sleek metal lift seamlessly, rising on its own with no human assistance. But the best part--the best part is when the door is finally up, and Steve, dramatic fucker that he is, emerges from the shadows of the quinjet. 

Bucky feels the wide smile on his face even before Steve walks down. Happiness bursts in his chest and makes his heart skip a beat when Steve finally comes into sight, a bright light in between the shadows, wearing jeans, a dark jacket, and that stupid beard on his face. Steve is smiling just as big as he closes the distance between them in a quick jog and crashes right into Bucky. 

“Dumbass,” Bucky says fondly against the side of Steve’s neck, hugging him tight with his arm wrapped around Steve’s shoulders. 

“I missed you too, Buck,” Steve murmurs, rubbing his bearded cheek against Bucky’s stubbled one just to be a dick. “I like your hair,” he says when he pulls away, one hand leaving Bucky’s waist to touch the beautiful and intricate braid on the side of Bucky’s head. “Looks pretty.” 

“Thank you,” Shuri pipes up from behind them, watching them with a smirk curling at her lips. “I did that.” 

“Princess.” Steve pulls back from Bucky only long enough so he can take a big and obnoxious bow in front of Shuri. “Your skills are out of this world.” 

Shuri rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what Bucky sees in you.” 

“He gives good hugs,” Bucky says in a serious tone, and gets another tight hug from Steve in answer. 

“I’m sure that’s not the only good thing he gives you,” Okoye murmurs under her breath and then hisses when T’Challa subtly elbows her on the side. 

“It’s good seeing you, Captain,” T’Challa says as he moves away from Okoye to shake Steve’s hand. It’s a little difficult, seeing as Bucky and Steve still haven’t let go of each other. “I’ve taken the liberty to tell my people to take your things to Bucky’s home.” 

“Thanks.” Steve shakes T’Challa’s hand. “And thank you for allowing me to be here.” 

T’Challa shakes his head and gives him a small smile, glancing between him and Bucky. “You’ve spent long enough apart. You’ll always have a place here, both of you. I couldn’t imagine staying away from Nakia for this long.”

Bucky and Steve somehow pull closer, arms still wrapped around each other. 

“You won’t have to,” Shuri says, rocking back on her heels and wearing a huge smile on her face. “A little bird told me she’s due for a trip this weekend.” 

Bucky has to bite down on a laugh when he sees T’Challa go totally frozen for a few seconds before his face breaks into the biggest smile Bucky’s ever seen. He can relate. That’s kind of how he felt about Steve coming to visit.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Bucky says, already curling his fingers around Steve’s shirt and pulling him along. “Thank you for everything.” 

Shuri waves goodbye at them while T’Challa stands around looking lost in his daydreams. Bucky snickers and lets go of Steve’s shirt so he can grab Steve’s hand, tangling their fingers together. 

“C’mon, you big lug, I’ve got plans for us,” Bucky says, grinning back at Steve. 

“Yeah?” Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “Want me to move your furniture again?” 

“I only have one arm.” Bucky blinks wide and innocent eyes at Steve, knowing he’s not fooling him for a second. Steve’s seen him flip a car with his one bare hand before. If Bucky wanted to move heavy things he could, but it’s always funnier watching Steve do it. “You gotta help me, Mister.” 

“What do I get for my troubles?” Steve scratches at his beard, considering. Like he ain’t gonna do it anyway. 

“You get to sleep on my bed instead of a pile of hay outside, how’s that?” 

“Dunno, Buck,” Steve purses his lips as he pretends to think, “Hay won’t hog the covers all night.” 

Bucky snorts. “It’s ninety degrees outside. We don’t need covers. Hell, we barely need clothes.” 

Steve goes a little pink in the face at that. Bucky frowns and speeds up the pace. The sun must be getting to him, so it’s best they get to Bucky’s home soon. 

“Just what I’ve always wanted,” Steve drawls, cheeks still pink, “you sweaty and stinky next to me.” 

Bucky bats his lashes at Steve. “You flatterer, you. Really, though, as soon as you help me move the bookcase, we can go do all the other fun things I have on the schedule for us.” 

“You have a schedule for us?” Steve smiles softly, squeezing Bucky’s hand. 

Bucky shrugs, ignoring the way his stomach flips. The sun must be getting to him too. “There are places I still haven’t shown you. Thought we could have a picnic and you could bring your sketchbook, is all. Draw the pretty things you see.” 

Steve’s smile is still soft while he stares at Bucky. “I’d like that.” 

“Then it’s settled,” Bucky says with a sharp nod. “Now let’s go. Furniture waits for no man.”

 

**

 

Steve takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, letting his lips pull at a smile. They had a good day today, the best day, with Bucky dragging him around to all the new places he’s discovered since Steve’s last visit. 

“Don’t fall asleep.” Bucky pokes at Steve’s thigh with a finger, like he isn’t the one laying down on the grass with his eyes closed. 

“Shuddup,” Steve mumbles, heart skipping a beat at the picture Bucky makes in between the green shine of grass and the little white flowers that grow between it. “I’ll sleep if I wanna.” 

Bucky blinks one eye open and stares at Steve with such a flat gaze that it makes Steve laugh. “I will leave you here to the panthers,” Bucky threatens, and then yawns. 

“No, you won’t,” Steve says, grabbing his sketchbook. “You still need me to cook you dinner.” 

Bucky grins but doesn’t say anything, content in laying on the grass and between the flowers, basking in the Wakanda sun. He’s gotten out of his shirt due to the heat, so the only clothes he has on are a pair of loose dark blue pants. 

Steve swallows and flips through the pages of drawings he did today, Bucky’ face smiling at him from all of them. He settles on a blank page and starts sketching, letting his hand follow the familiar lines of Bucky’s features. 

Time flies as Steve draws, and it’s only when he feels another poke at his thigh that he realizes the sun’s getting low on the horizon. 

“We should get going,” Bucky murmurs, eyes soft and crinkled at the corners as he stares at Steve. “Had a good day?” he asks after they’ve gathered their things. 

Steve nods, finding himself snaking an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and pulling him close. “I did, thank you.” 

“Drew all the pretty things to show Sam and make him jealous?” Bucky asks with a flash of a smile. 

Steve thinks back to his sketchbook, the pages holding nothing but Bucky. “I did,” he says with a smile of his own. “Don’t think I’ll show him, though.” 

Steve very much doubts Sam will want to see Bucky’s face. 

“Alright.” Bucky pats Steve on the chest as they break through the property, the small form of Bucky’s home in the distance. “Last one home gets the dishes.” 

Bucky is off before Steve can even protest, the sound of his laughter echoing through the afternoon. Steve grins and, with a curse, takes off after him.

 

**

 

Bucky’s bed is perfectly positioned so that the sun slowly peeks through the windows as he wakes up. Today, his wake-up call from Mr. Sun is interrupted by a warm body shifting next to him, a sharp elbow poking him in the rib, and the loud incessant ringing of a phone to Bootylicious. 

“Nghh,” Bucky groans, hand feeling around his bedside table for his phone. Next to him, Steve burrows his head under Bucky’s pillow,  his arm lifting to drape around Bucky’s waist and squeezing once, as if in apology for gutting him so early in the morning. 

Bucky squints at the caller ID on the screen. Then he wakes up enough to realize his phone is _not_ set to ring to Bootylicious. 

He dumps the phone unceremoniously on Steve’s back. “It’s your phone.” 

“Wha?” Steve asks, head lifting up from underneath the pillow. He looks sleep-frazzled, his hair in disarray, red pillow marks on his face. 

Bucky lets out a surprised laugh, his stomach contracting. “If only people could see the great Captain America now.” 

“Only you get to be so lucky,” Steve says, yawning, before he rolls over, dumping the phone on his back on the sheets. He sits up, the sheets pooling to his waist and presses the green button with his thumb. 

“Good morning, Captain Rogers,” T’Challa says from the video screen. 

“Morning,” Steve says. He probably should’ve straightened out his shirt before accepting a call from a royal. 

“Shuri has asked me to call and inform you that the weapon prototypes for the Falcon and Black Widow are ready,” T’Challa says, the voice of a long-suffering brother tasked to carry out his younger sister’s whims.

“Nice,” Bucky says, head now leaning against Steve’s waist as he peeks at the screen. “New toys.” 

“Oh,” Steve says, brow furrowing.  Steve’s hand drops absentmindedly to Bucky’s head, fingers combing through his hair. “I thought I was on a social visit.” 

“You know my sister, Captain. She already thinks the weapons she sent six months ago are outdated.” T’Challa says, flicker of a smile on his face. “Shuri is merely excited to test the prototypes, but it is absolutely not urgent. Please enjoy the morning with your boyfriend.” Before he ends the call, Steve hears Shuri in the background asking, “You wish you could stay with Nakia like that all the time, don’t you brother?” 

Steve flushes, eyes flicking to Bucky to see if he’d heard the last part of the conversation. Judging by the way Bucky’s clear gaze is looking up at him and the tinge of red on his cheeks, he has. 

“You know,” Bucky says slowly. “I get that _all_ the time from Shuri and His Royal Highness.” 

“Sam and Nat are the same too,” Steve admits, shrugging. He drops his phone on the bed and tries to decide if he wants to snuggle back down in bed, or keep sitting and finger-combing Bucky’s hair. 

“Like. Two people can be _friends,_ ” Bucky says emphatically, tilting his head back into Steve’s hand. 

Finger-combing it is. 

“I don’t know Buck,” Steve says, expression mock-serious. He frees a tangle from Bucky’s hair. “It’s pretty hard to be friends with you.” 

“Fuck you,” Bucky says grabbing a pillow and hitting Steve in the face. Steve laughs, grabbing the pillow and tossing it towards the foot of the bed. 

Bucky bites his lip as he settles back on the bed. After a minute of silence, he starts again, with a little furrow on his brows as if trying to solve a puzzle. “We don’t go dancing.” 

Steve nods, humming in assent. 

“We don’t go to dinner. We don’t dress up.” Even as Bucky says it, he’s starting to sound unsure. 

All of these are things people used to do back _then_ with the people they liked. 

Steve swallows and thinks of trimming his beard _just right_ every time he goes Skype and making sure he at least has a clean shirt on before he goes on camera. He thinks of the way Bucky’s hair is always fixed in a different style every time they see each other, like he made an effort to look like his best whenever he’s Skyping with Steve. 

“We just… schedule our Skype sessions in extreme detail.” Steve says, stomach flipping as he finally starts to think. It’s true--before they end each Skype call, they talk about what they’ll be doing for the next one--whether that’s watching a movie or eating the same cuisine. Anything that will make them feel like they aren’t oceans apart, that Steve isn’t on the run and Bucky isn’t in hiding, that physical distance is nothing. 

“I don’t walk you to your door.” Bucky says, but this time, he’s frowning, as if trying to convince himself that what they’re doing isn’t… dating. It couldn’t possible be… but somehow, it _is._  

They might not be doing the things that used to be considered dating back in the 30s, but he and Steve are doing _something_ that works for them. One look at Bucky's face and Steve knows he’s already thinking of the same things Steve is, and what this all implies. What this all _means_. 

Steve bundles up all his courage, now that his thoughts have caught up to what they’ve been doing for the last year, and forges ahead, throwing a small grin on his face. “I'm a fugitive from the government, Buck.” His heart is beating wildly in his chest, knowing that they’re on the cusp of something that will change _everything_. “I don't have a door.” 

Bucky digs his fingers into the meat of Steve’s thigh. Steve laughs, hand quickly catching Bucky’s fingers in his own and tangling them together. Bucky looks up at him then, and the air between them is charged, different. Steve doesn’t let go of Bucky’s hand. He gives it a squeeze instead, a small reassurance, to let Bucky know that he _gets it_. It took them a while, like the stupid idiots that they are, but they’re here. 

“I think we are dating.” Bucky whispers, eyes clear and mouth twitching up like he can’t help himself. The sun shines softly over his features, his lips bitten red. His hair is half in disarray over the mattress because of how Steve’s been combing it. 

Steve feels his heart stutter in his chest, the realization, the _confirmation_ sinking into place. “Yeah, I think we are,” he says, just as quiet. 

“Gonna do anything about it, Rogers?” Bucky asks. He’s smiling, soft and sweet, but there’s also a brief hint of uncertainty and worry in his eyes. Like he’s ready to give Steve an out if he wants one.  

The vulnerability makes Steve’s breath catch. He’s never seen anyone so beautiful. And he has no intention of running away from this. Only straight to it, with open arms and an open heart, and with so much happiness bubbling inside of him that it’s hard to keep in constrained. 

So he doesn’t.

“Yeah.” Steve says, swallowing down the rush of emotions he’s feeling at the revelation and meets Bucky’s lips in a soul-searing kiss. 

And when Bucky kisses back just as hard? Well, they are finally where they are meant to be. 

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find us on Tumblr: [talkplaylove](http://talkplaylove.tumblr.com) and [hawkguyz](http://hawkguyz.tumblr.com)!


End file.
